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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522552">I Cannot Speak, Nor Can I Run</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_of_Lilacs/pseuds/Wolf_of_Lilacs'>Wolf_of_Lilacs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Broken Earth Series - N. K. Jemisin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Codependency, Dubious Consent, Dubious Cuddling, M/M, No smut though we tease at it, Nongraphic Description of Gore, dubious everything</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:01:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_of_Lilacs/pseuds/Wolf_of_Lilacs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The walk to the Antarctics is long and sometimes treacherous. Eitz and Schaffa try to make do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eitz (Broken Earth)/Schaffa Guardian Warrant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Cannot Speak, Nor Can I Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/gifts">Fairleigh</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nights are cold on the roads as Eitz and Schaffa walk. Schaffa takes them around comms as much as possible. Eitz doesn’t need to ask why.</p><p>He seems to be looking for something. Eitz doesn’t ask what. He can guess, anyway. Other Guardians. Other roggas.</p><p>Days are long and dry, and nights are longer still, and the conversation between them is stilted, at least from Eitz’s perspective. Schaffa isn’t fazed by anything. He smiles more often as the days pass; he’s often lost in thought or remembrance, and his expressions become distant and inscrutable. Eitz doesn’t ask what he thinks about.</p><p>On the rare nights where Eitz is the one sitting awake into the wee hours, he witnesses what must be Schaffa’s dreams, and there is nothing pleasant about them. Schaffa writhes and groans so much that Eitz scoots as far from him as he dares and watches with his knees drawn up to his chest. The first time, Eitz almost wakes him out of shock and pity. But he remembers that faint smell of blood clinging to Schaffa’s clothes and the way he favored one hand on the day they left his family’s house, and so he holds himself still and waits to see if they pass.</p><p>“What do you dream about?” he asks Schaffa once, just to see what sort of answer he’ll get.</p><p>“I don’t remember,” Schaffa replies quickly, and by the tightening around his eyes, Eitz believes him.</p><p>He doesn’t ask again.</p><p>Eitz asks about other Guardians. Why isn’t Schaffa with them? What is he looking for?</p><p>Schaffa will focus on him, icewhite eyes sharpening for a moment. “They will find us, in time,” is all he says. Then his hand will clench where it often rests on Eitz’s shoulder, and they continue walking.</p><p>As they go, Schaffa will ask what Eitz can sess. Eitz is wary at first, hesitant to try lest he look too far or push too hard, but Schaffa is patient. It is on one of these occasions—when Eitz has sessed further than he ever has and nearly stumbles over a small rock for his trouble—that he becomes aware of a small band of Commless heading swiftly on an intersecting course. Eitz comes back to himself with a snap.</p><p>Schaffa has already produced a stoneknife from somewhere, and he bares his teeth. “Very good,” he says, “but you can improve with more practice.”</p><p>Eitz unsheathes his own knife, far less certain.</p><p>The Commless surround them. There are only three: a woman and two older men, all of them armed to the teeth with knives and sharp stones of shapes Eitz hasn’t even imagined before, but they’re not much more than skin stretched taut across bones. Eitz can’t imagine what they think he and Schaffa might have of value, but Schaffa’s already dispatched the woman—when did he move? —and the other two are backing off, properly wary. Eitz isn’t even sure he used the knife at all.</p><p>“Don’t let us get in your way,” Schaffa says, spreading hands speckled in blood. Its source isn’t hard to find; the back of the woman’s head is a mass of broken bone and blood. He glances down at her corpse, almost disappointed.</p><p>The remaining members of the Commless band dart off without a backward glance.</p><p>“H—How?” Eitz asks. His heart thunders in his ears, and he takes several gasping breaths.</p><p>“Experience,” Schaffa says. He still hasn’t cleaned the blood from his hands when he reaches out to grasp Eitz’s hands. Eitz shudders but makes no protest. </p><p>Eitz is still trembling from the adrenaline. Schaffa cups the back of Eitz’s head in his blood-covered palm, and only then does Eitz begin to relax.</p><p>(He has nightmares for weeks afterword.)</p><p>They leave the rockiness of the coast behind, and the walking becomes less tiring. They’ve got very little to talk about. Schaffa is lost in thought, and Eitz has nothing more to do but to follow him. He has no home to go back to.</p><p>Schaffa’s destination seems to be first the somidlats, and then after what seems like aimless wandering there as if he’s searching for something, Schaffa redirects them south toward the Antarctics. Eitz hasn’t been much farther than the edge of his comm before now. There’s never been any need to venture out, and it’s a lot to take in. They pass lots of comms, some small, some middling. They stop occasionally to trade in the ones that seem friendliest. When the weather is bad enough, they will even stay the night. Schaffa is sometimes strange around innkeeps, as though he’s forgotten how to interact with them. When they realize he’s a Guardian, although they don’t always, they’re quite eager to help, and wary. They give Eitz looks of utter disdain.</p><p>Schaffa will protect him, Eitz knows, as they share a bed one night. It’s been raining for the last day, and they’re both shivering and damp. Schaffa is warm and solid against his back.</p><p>“How much farther?” Eitz asks. It’s been close to a month already.</p><p>“We’re about halfway,” Schaffa replies, though he doesn’t sound certain. He kisses Eitz’s forehead as he so often does. His face is drawn in pain. Eitz can feel how tense he is, his breath coming in gasps, his hand on Eitz’s hip just a little too tight.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“Just fine,” Schaffa murmurs, but he draws Eitz closer anyway.</p><p>The rain drums on.</p><p>Schaffa is hard. He presses against Eitz and sighs, as if from relief. Then he seems to drop off to sleep.</p><p>Eitz lies awake, listening to the rain.</p>
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